


hands, put your empty hands in mine.

by commonemergency



Series: tumblr prompts. [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hands, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 07:52:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14184330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commonemergency/pseuds/commonemergency
Summary: Phil can’t help but want to count the lines that run on his palms.





	hands, put your empty hands in mine.

**Author's Note:**

> part of my tumblr prompt series.
> 
> prompt: hand kissing
> 
> (also let's just take a second to applaud my restraint of just naming this ' _the hand_ ' okay)
> 
> for **@quercussp**

**2009.**

The first time Phil holds Dan’s hand he sweats. Dan doesn’t say anything. He just lets him hold his hand. Let’s him examine his hands, like he’s looking for gold and he handles it as such. The touches are delicate, caring, soft. Phil can’t help but want to count the lines that run on his palms. He knows there’s stories to tell here, stories that one day maybe he’ll know about, but hasn’t unlocked that part of Dan yet. 

It’s so late at night, the moonlight is reflecting on Dan’s face but all he wants to do is hold his hand, and hold it for dear life because this moment doesn’t feel real and he doesn’t want it to escape. 

“I’m sorry,” Phil says. _I’m sorry for how my hands shake against yours. It’s not something to fear, it’s just how I am when I’m with you._ He doesn’t say that though.

Instead Dan tugs Phil closer, their fingers are interlocked together and their noses brush against each other. Phil can’t help but think that he wouldn’t mind doing this every day for the rest of his life. He brings his hands up to his lips, and his skin smells like a mixture of Phil and vanilla soap from his bathroom. 

*

**2012.**

Maybe it’s the rebuilding of things that’s causing his hands to shake. Once they fix something another thing falls apart. Literally. It’s their own fault for buying such cheap furniture. Their own fault for not knowing how to assemble it. Maybe it’s the nerves, the heat that the summer brings, the slight anger in things just not going the way that they want them to. 

Dan is pressed up against the wall, there’s hundreds of little pieces surrounding him, he’s holding a tool that Phil knew the name of but can’t seem to remember now. His hands are shaking, they’re red, and Phil swears he sees cuts from attempting to fix something. They still look holdable though. 

Phil is lost in thought, the heat may have actually fried his brain because he reaches out to grab Dan’s equally sweaty hand, examining it with his own. His fingers smooth over the cuts, Dan makes a face, but he doesn’t push him away. It’s a win in a lot of ways, mainly because he knows how Dan gets when he’s irritated; he doesn’t like to be touched or bothered with, but Phil wants the attention, wants to feel his fingers in between his, because Dan is the only thing that he knows here, he’s familiar. 

Their fingers are interlocked together, looking at the mess they’ve made, and Phil gives Dan’s hand a squeeze. 

“We should take a break.” He says, pulling Dan’s hands up to his lips. 

Dan watches him, his other hand pushing up his slightly curled hair. 

“I need a plaster.” Dan sighs, noticing the cut that he has on his palm and on his arm. “I don’t know how I did that,” He says with a quick roll of the eyes. 

_They definitely need a break_ , but Phil just wants to sit here and hold his hand and try and not think about the heat, or the fact that they have to try and figure out how to make these pieces of furniture work. 

“I’m pretty sure we have hello kitty plasters.” Phil says with a small smile, getting up and offering to help Dan up too. 

*

**2014.**

Dan is anxious. Phil can tell that Dan is anxious. He can’t seem to sit still. They’ve been in a meeting that seems to be never ending. He keeps fixing the pen, fixing the papers in front of them, nodding along to something that he probably doesn’t quite understand because he’s anxious and can’t concentrate. He looks to Phil once and then back to arranging the papers, clicking the pen and then putting it right back down again. 

His legs bounce underneath the table, and he keeps putting his fingers up to his lips, tearing at the skin around his nails. It’s a bad habit that he’s had since before they met. Phil had never been one to bite his nails but he knows that Dan does. They’ve tried a lot of things to stop the habit but nothing works. 

Dan has gone back to tapping his fingers against his thighs now, feeling the texture of his jeans by how hard he’s rubbing his palms against them. Phil looks around at the people that he knows well but not well enough and he reaches over to grab one of Dan’s hands as if it will help calm him down. 

And it does help, a little. Maybe because Dan is fully aware of the people around them, sitting at this table, can look over and see Phil holding his hand. Regardless, Dan gives Phil a gentle squeeze before he lets go and reaches for the water bottle to take a drink of, like it’ll help somehow.

When the meeting ends Dan is the first to get up from his seat, taking his things quickly, thanking the people for taking a few hours out of their Saturday to meet and he’s heading towards the door to the loo. Phil follows him, and watches as he bends over the sink to splash water on his face. 

Phil rubs his back and Dan goes a little stiff. 

He feels a little hurt, but he can’t blame Dan for the way that he feels. 

“Home?” Dan asks, almost begging with the slight quiver in his voice. 

“Yeah.” Phil says, opening the door for them. 

In the backseat of a taxi Dan stares out a window. The taxi driver is one of the few who wants to make conversation that neither of them have the energy for, so naturally Phil does all the talking even if it’s a little painful for him. Dan is good at making small talk. Phil can when he needs to step up to the occasion, he’d just rather not right now. 

The last five minutes of the car ride are silent, and the taxi driver wishes them a good day. Dan smiles the best that he can but he gulps, his hands shoved into his pockets waiting for Phil to unlock the door to their apartment. 

They split, Dan goes off to his room to regroup, Phil takes his jacket off and puts comfier clothes on and starts cleaning the dishes because it’s the one thing he can do. He has never been one to really impulsive clean but his mind needs a distraction and his hands need to work on something. He thinks of the games that he used to play with Martyn. His mother would put them in competition for a sweet if they finished before the other and Phil hardly ever won because Martyn was faster in a lot of ways but it’s still a fond memory. 

He swears he scrubs every plate twice and then three times, his fingers feel pruney now and he’s debating on sweeping the kitchen when Dan opens the glass door holding his medication in one hand.

“Side effects may include: nausea, increase in weight, fatigue, insomnia, dry mouth, constipation, dizziness, agitation, anxiety.” Dan says reading off the list before he frowns. “ _Anxiety,_ ” he closes his eyes for a moment, and then looks back at Phil. “Antidepressants cause _anxiety._ ” 

“--- And agitation,” Phil reaches out for Dan, interlocking their fingers. 

Dan looks puzzled, holding Phil’s hands up as if to examine them. “What did you do? Place your hand in a bowl of water for hours?”

“I stress cleaned the dishes.” 

Dan nods his head, this time smoothing over Phil’s hands that are puffy and raw. Dan was careful with his actions, even when he got lost in his head a lot, he was careful with Phil, always making sure that no harm came to him. It felt like protection even when he didn’t need it -- it was just nice having Dan there doing it regardless. He felt loved. 

“Sorry.” Dan says, not looking up at him. 

He doesn’t really know what he’s saying sorry for, but Phil forgives him anyway. 

*

**2018.**

They needed lazy days sometimes. They needed days where all they do is watch the telly, with Dan’s head in Phil’s lap playing with his curls and laughing about something that someone’s said. They’ve had meetings this morning, and then they came back home to order lunch and it was late afternoon now. 

Dan had been in and out of sleep the past hour, waking up to check his phone and watch the television. It’s hard to relax sometimes knowing that there are things they could do right now. They knew that eventually they’d get to them but these moments were ones to cherish while they could before everything started. 

Phil sometimes thought a lot about those first few nights together, when everything was new and unfamiliar. There were so many things going on in his head he didn’t know what to do. It showed, when Phil thought back on it. He was awkward and long limbs and didn’t know where to place his hands, he just knew that he wanted to be near Dan, but he didn’t want to scare him away. He’s looking down at the same boy, but things were a little different now in a good way. 

He wasn’t afraid to run his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t afraid to stare a little bit longer. He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind about the things that bothered him. He wasn’t afraid to argue a little bit as long as it got resolved. He wasn’t afraid to love him anymore. He wasn’t afraid to love _all_ of him. 

Phil grabs his hand again, Dan doesn’t even blink when he does. Phil looks at the lines that run up and down his palms, all the stories that he wasn’t sure he’d get to know about, but is now a part of. They’re not as soft as they were back then, but they’re hardworking, reliable, steady, sturdy, and fit perfectly in his own. He smiles, bringing Dan’s hand up to his lips, and he presses soft kisses everywhere. 

Dan smiles at him, scrolling through his phone like he normally does, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling Phil’s face to pinch his nose and then cup his cheek. 

“I’m trying to shower you with love, and this is what I get,” Phil pokes Dan’s dimple with his finger. 

Dan laughs that special kind of laugh grabbing Phil’s hand to hold to his chest before replying.

“I know, I am too.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments/kudos appreciated! 
> 
> talk to me on tumblr/twitter: **@nihilismdan**


End file.
